The deep-house beats fall
from the window – hit
sunbeams combing the heat
fall down simmering streets

It’s royal wedding day – but I
can only focus on this
bunch of dead flowers,
strapped to a lamp-post –

The cellophane wrap flutters
around the dry remnants
framed by estates and hills
and glints from windscreens

I’m not saying something,
shocked by the light’s irradiance
the faintly dissonant organ
of which echoes softly pour